


cesspool of unsavory inclinations

by Psuedorabbit



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Blowjobs, Gakuen, GoM - Freeform, Hurt, KnB - Freeform, Kuroko no Basket - Freeform, M/M, NSFW, No Condoms, No Lube, aoima - Freeform, aomine is a brat, aomine x imayoshi, emotional abuse at first, generation of miracles - Freeform, imaomine, imayoshi talks down to him, knb gom, kurobas - Freeform, kuroko no basuke - Freeform, only saliva, sex in a locker room, then raw sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 17:34:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7473414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Psuedorabbit/pseuds/Psuedorabbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>request: I wanNA SEE IMAYOSHI FUCKIN' WRECK AN UNSUSPECTING AHOMINE. juSt FUCK (emphasis on FUCK) HiM UP. (make this a smut shot please but not like a full on barebacking donkey smut fic like leave me hangin' a lil pls let me die in peace)</p>
            </blockquote>





	cesspool of unsavory inclinations

**Author's Note:**

> i got carried away with this sin so pls accept

It’s quiet in the empty locker room, the only sound is the hollow dripping noise echoing through the tiled walls and floors. Aomine had finished his shower after his game against Seirin. The loss was still fresh in his mild, shallowing out his thoughts and his entire being. He sits on the bench, elbows resting on his knees. The towel around his neck isn't doing much to stop water dripping onto the floor or his barely exposed knees from his second towel around his hips.

The athlete isn't sure how long he's been sitting in the same spot, but he's sure he hears the door creaking open. Almost soundless footsteps are approaching the man, but Aomine doesn't bother turning.

“It hurts, doesn't it Aomine-kun?”

Ah, who could mistake that voice? The cold hearted, venomous words sugarcoated with the sweetest tone.

“Leave me alone, four eyes. I'm not in the mood.” If Imayoshi was miffed at the insult, he didn' show it. Instead, Aomine feels his presence come closer, feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up from the sudden heat against his bare back. Imayoshi had rested his arms across Aomine's shoulders, leaned down far enough so Aomine could see him in his peripheral.

“You're no fun. However, you certainly were during the game. Too bad you had to go and  _ ruin _ it all.” He almost whispers the words, the willowyness of them going right through the tanned male as if they were an entity.

Aomine shudders, sighs lowly as he shrugs Imayoshi off of him.

“You're right. We lost, and I contributed to it. Let it go.” Except, it couldn't be like that, and it wouldn't be like that, no matter how Aomine tried to dismiss it. 

Aomine hears a chuckle behind him, and Imayoshi is suddenly in front of him, index finger tucked under the male's chin to force eye contact. Aomine can't find it in himself to look away.

The only thing the captain sees in Aomine's eyes is bitter emptiness. It makes him shiver and grin with a new vigor. Aomine was already broken, why not play with him some more while he was still here? To try and find another fire in his eyes? That sounded fun.

“Oh, but that's not the case, is it?” He begins, thumb gently rimming the outer lines of Aomine's bottom lip. “You're shattered from the inside out and it doesn't take a genius to recognize that. You're weak.” 

Something stirs within Aomine, the fuzziness of it was connected to the feeling of anger. Yes, he may have fucked up a major game, and he may be weaker, but who is Imayoshi to talk? He was on the same team!

“I may be weaker, but not for long. I have long since found a worthy opponent. He makes basketball fun again, and I'll be damned if you try and ruin my spirit.” Aomine states, standing tall and glares down his nose at his captain, who only keeps that same sinister grin.

“Is that so?”

“It is.”

Aomine huffs, pushes past the older male to go to his locker. The sudden shock of cool metal against his back, coupled with the sharp edging caused Aomine to hiss, teeth bared with a snarl as he looks to none other than Imayoshi.

“The fuck is your problem?” He hisses, shoving at Imayoshi’s chest hard enough to make the captain stumble backward.

Imayoshi only lunges forward again, both of his hands grasping Aomine's wrists and pinned them against the lockers, his body flush against the ace’s.

“My problem? Well, if you're seeking the truth then I'd like to state that I think you're too arrogant for your own good,” he begins, inky black orbs staring into midnight.

“I've told you time and time again that it will come back around and kick you in the ass until you're nothing but a shell, have I not? Or was your head shoved so far up your ass that you didn't hear me? Or maybe you were too busy with your erotic magazines to heed any warnings.” 

Imayoshi tightens his grip when he feels the other begin to struggle, rage fired in his eyes.  _ Good, now we're getting somewhere. _ Imayoshi feels an oncoming grin, stretching out wide against his features.

“Oh, did I make you angry? I was only trying to get you to realize what you've done wrong.” The lie in his words could have made Aomine choke.

“Bullshit.”

“You've caught me. Can you really blame me, though? I do admire you when you get.. Emotional. You look kind of cute, in a masculine way.” Aomine feels his entire being burn with heat, flickering his gaze to the floor.

“The hell kinda shit is that? You insult me and then tell me you think I'm cute. That's fucked up.”

Imayoshi laughs, a quiet little breathy exhale passing his curling lips. “Is that a problem? I thought you were used to girls and their flattery. Why is a man's flattery any different?”

Aomine grows hotter under his gaze, his words swimming in his mind. It was weird, to have your captain compliment you and touch you in this way. It was oddly arousing.

“I mean I'm not a homo- you're just a jackass and I never thought of you in that way.” It seems like Imayoshi once again ignored the insult, and suddenly he was  _ much _ closer.

“What are y-” Aomine's words are stopped short by cool lips pressed against his own. The ace isn't sure what to think, what to do, what to say. He can't say anything- his mouth is occupied.

A few seconds into the kiss and he feels teeth nip at his bottom lip, and his own knees threaten to give out. It was all too much at once. Aomine doesn't struggle against the grip on his wrists anymore, doesn't feel the burn of budding insults at the tip of his tongue anymore. Instead, he feels a hot, wet muscle ringing the outside of his bottom lip, inviting itself inside.

It's feverish, and the water drops on Aomine's body have probably evaporated from how hot he became. The grip on his wrists loosen and travel downward, settling on Aomine's hips just above the hem of the towel wrapped around him. Nimble fingers walk across his skin, teasing Aomine. 

Yes, this was totally uncalled for and  _ wrong _ , but that's what made him all the more aroused. The captain wasn't ugly by any means, no, not even Aomine himself could deny that. Instead of feeling disgust, the only thing that the athlete felt was raw heat and lust. Who's at fault? Imayoshi, and he  _ knows _ it.

The kiss is broken slowly, a slight puff of air and a smile accompanied Imayoshi afterward. The atmosphere is feverish, a cesspool of unsavory inclinations.

“You kiss like you play- reckless and obdurate.” Aomine isn't sure if he should be offended by that or not, so he opts for leaning into another kiss. Why stop now? He's already hard. Maybe he can get a blowjob out of this.

It didn't take much more kissing and lingering touches for Aomine to realize that Imayoshi’s intentions were not the least bit virtuous. The knot of Aomine's towel is tugged loose, the cloth dropping to the floor with an audible thump. Coldness surrounds Aomine, and he can't help the next round of blush that paints his cheeks.

“Fuck, you're insistent, aren't you?” Aomine mutters against pink lips, which only curl again and he nods.

“I want you on your knees in front of your captain.”  _ Excuse me? _ Oh, so he was into  _ that _ kind of stuff. Aomine shakes his head with the beginnings of a refusal until a hand is knotting into the back of his hair and Imayoshi's knee is knocking his legs apart, and he received a shove to the floor.

Aomine's skin prickles with something akin to anxious fear and defiance, a distasteful combination in his opinion. Imayoshi can only lick his teeth with appreciation, undoing the front of his pants.

“Now, you're going to have to do a good job, since I haven't brought any lube.” The horrified look on Aomine's face could have made the other shudder. His pants are shoved down his thighs, his briefs following soon after. 

Standing tall and proud was his thick shaft, pink and swollen at the tip. Imayoshi grips it, stroking once, twice. Pearly white liquid beads at the tip, and Imayoshi uses the pad of his thumb to wipe it off, pressing it now to Aomine's bottom lip.

For some unknown reason, in Aomine's mind, he parts his lips to take the digit into his mouth, tongue obediently licking him clean. Unlike his own come, Imayoshi was sweet. Thick and rich.

His eyes are cast upward to his captain, heat rushing to his face at the sight of his cock a mere few inches from his face. The look Imayoshi gave him was sinister, absolutely devilish. It turned Aomine on immensely.

“Well, go on. It won't lubricate itself.”  _ Alright, jackass. _

Aomine seemed to have lost his voice sometime after kissing, the shock of it all probably numbing him. His lips find the head of his cock and kissed it, pulling it into his mouth.

The man recalls the tricks and teases that other woman performed on him orally many times before, and how they made him personally feel. He licks a stripe down Imayoshi's shaft down to the base, looks up to the captain to try and gauge his reaction. Imayoshi rested a hand on Aomine's head, threads long fingers through the dark tresses.

“There you go, just like that.” Aomine grunts, tries to hide how flustered he is by moving up and taking a mouthful of the shaft, cheeks hollowing out as he sucked.

He hears a soft hiss from above, the hand in his hair tightening slightly.

“You're a pro at this, aren't you Aomine? Do you suck the whole team off like this?” Imayoshi purrs, thrusts his hips ever so lightly. It was enough to make the male choke- the words and actions surprising him.

“Don't talk with your mouthful, it's rude.”

Aomine grunts again, pulling off with a wet pop as he glares upward. His hand is wrapped around Imayoshi now, a little tighter than he knows is comfortable. To his chagrin, Imayoshi seemed to thrive off of it. He moans out lowly, rests his forehead against the lockers as he leans over Aomine.

The ace feels claustrophobic, feels too hot and needy. The captain's shin is suddenly between Aomine's thighs and he gasps, his obvious arousal throbbing with neglect. Oh right, there's that.

Aomine presses into the touch, just to have it pulled away as soon as it arrived. 

“One task at a time, brat. Understand?” Imayoshi murmurs, presses his hips closer to the other's face. Aomine only nods curtly, opens his mouth wider to take him in again, hands flying to grip Imayoshi's thighs, blunt nails digging faint crescents into the skin.

Soon enough, the thrusts were getting harder, deeper. Wetness pooled at the corners of the ace's eyes, a sticky mixture of saliva and precum slipping down Aomine's chin and throat, filthing himself. Lewd gagging noises were drowned out by the echoing sound effects of slurping and other wet noises.

It was difficult, in Imayoshi's mind, to maintain control. It was pure willpower that kept him alive and not plunging into Aomine's ass right then and there.

He takes a larger handful of Aomine's hair, suddenly pulling Aomine off of him. If Imayoshi didn't know any better, he'd say that Aomine looked a little disappointed.  _ Cute. _

“Alright, sweetheart. You've been so good, but will it last?” Imayoshi croons, pulls Aomine up on shaky feet to guide him towards the bench.

Imayoshi is stripping himself fully; his shirt had been clinging to his frame from cold sweat, and it was far too hot, anyway. The captain positions the man to lean over the bench, ass pressed high in the air.

Imayoshi salivates, lets both of his hands run over the man's ass and  _ squeeze _ . If Aomine had any fight left in him, it was certainly gone now. The bluenette was burying his face in his arms, the taste of Imayoshi still heavy on his tongue. It made his head spin and his body tremble. His voice was hoarse and both men knew it, but neither cared.

“Have you done this before?” It takes Aomine a moment to process the question, cheeks building with red pigment as he shook his head slowly.

“No.” Imayoshi clicks his tongue in mock chastise, wondering if he’d really have to stretch Aomine out before using him, so he comes up with an idea; dangle the prize in the man’s face and encourage him.

Imayoshi pretends to think, to dwell on his next steps as he runs his palms over the tanned ass in front of him once more, thumb circling his entrance. Aomine tensed at that, his teeth find his bottom lip, worrying it until he tasted faint copper.

“S’not gonna hurt, is it?” Aomine asks, could have slapped himself for how vulnerable he sounded. He digs his cheek into his arms, which are crossed in front of him holding him up. God, how embarrassing he must look right now. What if someone were to come in and see? What would he do, what would he say? His reputation would be over just as well as Imayoshi’s- not like he cared about that cold hearted bastard anyway.

Imayoshi considers lying, but he knows that Aomine needs honesty right now. The captain also knows that Aomine might actually beg for him, given if he plays his cards right and carries out his ministrations relentlessly.

“It will. However, if you behave well enough, I might just be nice enough to go slow at first, so you don’t tear. Aren’t I the fairest captain, Aomine-kun?” The raven haired asks, a certain undertone of iniquity in his words. Aomine can’t help the shiver running up his spine. Well, maybe it won’t be so bad; maybe Imayoshi was just bluffing. He had a high pain tolerance, so why would something like this be any different?

Aomine is about to state his thoughts, tell his captain that he can take whatever’s coming to him but comes to an immediate stop as a hot digit is pressing at is entrance incessantly, dry and and eager. It makes Aomine flinch, to writhe against the bench at this new experience. It was uncomfortable and awkward, and he made sure to vocalize it.

“Feels weird, take it out.” He mumbled, craning his neck to try and get a better look at his captain, only succeeding in getting his hair pulled and his face pressed hard into the bench. He hisses, arching his body downward and clenched his muscles.

“Brat, you’ll take it if I tell you to. You can do it, I know you can. You’re a big strong boy, aren’t you? Ace of the team, a Miracle-” Imayoshi pauses, pulls his finger away to instead nudge the tip of his cock against the awaiting ring of muscle. It twitches against the cool air, beckons for Imayoshi to come closer and to stretch it taut, fill him him up thickly.

Aomine makes a rumbling sound within his chest, tongue flicking out to wet his lips, biting the side of his tongue with need. “Then get on with it.” He tries to order, but his voice only comes out a weak rasp, dripping with desire. And really, who was Imayoshi to deny such a sweet voice? His captain, that’s who.

“Sorry sweetheart, you’ll have to be a little more specific on what you want.” The captain speaks, rocking his hips forward enough to elicit a sharp inhale from the male beneath him.

“Please, captain; just fuck me already-” it sounds strained, like it’s full of embarrassment.  _ Cute. _

“Oh? Is that what you want? Despite your previous struggling and disobedience, you want  _ me _ to cater to you?” Imayoshi muses, rocks his hips harder into the man. His own patience was wearing thin, but it was too tempting to slow down and simply tease the other. 

Aomine huffs with indignance, arches upward to feel more of Imayoshi. “You’ve already got me rock hard, might as well finish the job.” Is that the ace’s only argument? Well now, that won’t do.

“Is that your only reasoning?”

“Yeah. I thought that since you have four eyes you could see something that plainly.”

Deafening silence. Aomine can hear his heart rattling against his ribcage. The atmosphere was beginning to suffocate him now, until he hears a shattering  _ crack _ from behind him, then feels the ever so recognizable burn of a slap against his bottom. It jerks the man forward, eyes wide and jaw slack with a silent whine.

“I’ve been very tolerant with you tonight, have I not?” Imayoshi receives a short nod in response, and it brings an amused grin to his cheeks. The brat wasn’t complaining, so that meant that he was actually  _ enjoying  _ himself.

“Now that we’ve settled things..” Imayoshi trails off, grips muscled hips even tighter to prevent movement. The skin is hot beneath his touch, firm and soft at the same time.

He’s quick to work the tip of his cock past Aomine’s entrance, slides it along his tight walls deliciously and smoothly. The actions caused sounds from both parties, Imayoshi grunts and the ace gives a sort of groan and mewl combination. Oh, how the captain wanted to just  _ slam _ into his sweet little hole, take him fully and quickly. It would have to wait, because right now just the simple action took Imayoshi’s breath away and caused spots to speckle the corners of his vision.

A few seconds of labored breathing follow, euphoric sensations reverberating off of their very bones and seeping through the pores of their skin. Aomine, in slight pain, was more focused on the pleasure rather than the burning sensation. It shouldn’t get any worse, right?

Imayoshi finally collects himself, lets himself push into him until he buried to the hilt. Both men were both stunned into silence, mouths agape and knuckles white from iron grips on nearby objects. The silence was thick, soon erupting into a mantra of moans and breathy gasps once Imayoshi deemed it okay to start thrusting.

It was becoming harder and harder to not lose himself- not just Imayoshi, but Aomine as well. Their bodies were tensing and relaxing in sync, shivering and shuddering with white hot pleasure. Sweat glistened off of their skin, casting shimmering shadows across muscled skin and the dips and curves of bone and tendons. It was if each male were sculptures in an obscene gallery, on display on a marble pedestal.

Thick hot ropes of release were splattered against the bench and Aomine’s chest in a flurry of white, dragging out a hoarse moan from the ace. The captain was in no better condition- unraveling at the speed of light soon after, not bothering to pull out of the delicious heat that the man offered. 

They stay still and connected in their post coital haze, Imayoshi leaned over the other with his lips against a taut shoulder. It was intoxicating, to be this close to the male. More so when he sees the beginnings of a fucked-out grin stretching across the ace’s lips. 

“If this is gonna be a normal thing for us, you should be a little rougher. You know I’m not fragile.” Imayoshi could have laughed at that, humming against his skin as he kissed his shoulder blade.

“You’re awfully demanding for a virgin.”

“Shut up, bastard.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow at knb-garbage-writing.tumblr.com to request if you want more stuff


End file.
